


The Arrow in Her Heart

by DebsterClintashaLove



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Captain America: The Winter Soldier Spoilers, Intimacy, Language, Sexual Content, Spoilers, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-14
Updated: 2014-04-14
Packaged: 2018-01-19 08:22:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1462423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DebsterClintashaLove/pseuds/DebsterClintashaLove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post Captain America: The Winter Soldier.</p><p>Just typical Natasha comes back to Clint, and of course, they missed each other.</p><p>Not the greatest at summaries and I'm sick right now so...</p><p>A bunch of fluffy sexual hot cuteness</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Arrow in Her Heart

What happened in New York was a nightmare, and only two years later it was repeated in Washington, but the worst part was my own past came back to haunt me. I had to get out of Washington, get away from S.H.I.E.L.D, just get away from all the hell that I'd endured. I couldn't go back to my place, that'd be too cliche and the first place anyone would go looking for me. First place anyone who wanted to cut me open and savage my organs for revenge would go. Instead, I walked the morning streets of New York, stripped hood covering my straight hair, sunglasses over my eyes, a silver chain with a hanging arrow pendent setting at my chest, hands tucked in my pockets, to a little home, a few minutes outside of where the disaster happened. It may not have seemed the best place to get away to, but it wasn't the setting I wanted. I lifted my arm, the fresh bullet wound in my shoulder sore and knocked, not bothering to try and break in because I just felt entirely out of it...and I knew he kept this place 'Romanov Proof'.

"Clint...just open up." I called out, slouching against the door down to the ground after a moment of complete silence. I buried my face into my hands, elbows resting on my knees. I didn't break down, just sat there in..I don't really know. Was it fear I felt? Terror? Did I feel raw and uncovered and exposed? Hell, I didn't know what it felt like for people to know every little detail of your life and for those people to have the capability to get together and turn against you. I was always on top, had no idea what that truly felt like to be on the bottom. I heard footsteps and then the gradually stop of them in front of me, and I looked up to find him, looking down at me in concern.

"What the fuck happened to 'I'll be here when you get back'?" I questioned him weakly, removing the glasses from my hidden eyes, as he crouched down to me.

"That 'when you get back' wasn't supposed to be so soon." He answered, resting a hand on my arm.

"Lying birdie." I smirked a little at him in response, but it quickly turned back into upset, leaning up and wrapping my arms tightly around him, meeting at his back. His arms held me back, running his hand over my neck soothingly, and I sighed out in relief. He was relief for me.

"Nat, what happened?" He asked me softly, but I knew he already saw the news, knew what had happened. I pulled back to look him in the eyes, and we both stood to our feet, going into his little home. He shut and locked the door, as I made my way over into the kitchen, sitting up on the countertop. He walked toward me, hands now pulling my hood down and pushing the jacket aside to reveal my wounded shoulder. "I fucking knew Rogers was going to let you get hurt."

"Clint, it wasn't his fault. It was...it was Winter." I defended him, not wanting Clint to be pissed at his teammate for her own wrong-doing.

"Hmm...first this," he retorted quietly, his voice low, as his hand ran down to my hip, pulling up my shirt a little to reveal the scar, running his thumb gently over it, "and now this. Rogers should've been there for you, dammit..I should've been there for you." He answered in agony before he leaned in, letting his lips touch the wound gently. My breath hitched at the feeling of his lips along the expanse of the scar, and I rested my hands on either side of his neck when he raised his head to look back into my eyes. "Why did I find everything about you online, Tasha? What happened there? I've been so fucking worried."

"S.H.I.E.L.D it's, it's been run by Hydra all along. I thought I was doing good by joining, but..I've only added to the horrible crimes I've commited. I, I had to shut down their whole operation and leak everything about S.H.I.E.L.D including my past. I just.." I couldn't finish speaking. He rested his hands on my thighs, fingers splayed across them.

"Tasha.."

"...I feel so damn vulnerable. I can't hide what I've done anymore. I can't lie through my teeth to anyone to make them think I'm this good person I know I'm not. Everyone knows everything, and now I'm just...I'm not even a person to anyone, I'm just this...murderer..this heartless monster. I can't wipe the red out now, it's...it's permanent." I told him softly, keeping my head down in shame, because I didn't think he was ever going to look at me the same.

"That's not your fault, Nat. They betrayed us, you didn't betray them. You are not a monster. Look at all the lives you've saved, all the good things you've done. You've more than wiped out your ledger, Tasha, I promise you have." He reassured me sweetly, raising a hand to curl a finger under my chin.

"You can't possibly look at me the same after this."

"Nat, no. Don't even start that shit." He answered sternly, his other arm creeping around my waist. "You can never get me to think any less of you. You will never get me to love you any less than I do. I don't give a damn about what you did in your past. I only care about who you are now and who you've become, and you know who you've become...? The woman I'm absolutely, entirely in love with and would risk my life for." He dropped his hand to run his thumb over the little pendant that pooled at my chest, and I wrapped my arm around his neck, my other hand finding his and running my thumb along the small Black Widow spider tattooed in the corner of his wrist.

"I missed you so damn much, Clint." I whispered, pressing my lips to his gently. He kissed me back, letting his tongue slide across my bottom lip then slip between my lips to touch mine. I raised my hands back up to play with the short strands of hair at the back of his neck. He pulled back slowly to look into my eyes, his arms around my waist, pulling him between my legs. I wrapped my jean-clad legs around his waist, hitching my knees up to rest at his sides, pressing myself against him, and he tightened his hold on me. He kept his eyes on me, before his lips went to my neck, kissing, licking and nipping at my soft flesh, then running down to peck a kiss to the arrow around my neck. My hand crept further into his hair, moaning and calling out his name. "Clint, I need you so much right now. Just....please."

"You need me, huh? Thought you were an independent woman?" He joked, his lips curving into a grin against my neck. I smacked his head lightly, before he was lifting me up in his arms and carrying me to his bed, keeping his lips along my neck, and I kept my hand tangled into his short hair, holding him against my neck. I needed this so much. I needed the relief, needed him to take the stress and hurt and anger and agony away. I missed his touch every day I didn't have it. It was hell, because I felt...so alone without him. So empty. He set me down gently, leaning down to my face so his forehead rested against mine.

"Show me how much you missed me." I whispered, raspily against his lips. He smirked at me, his hands making their way to the waistband of my jeans toward my center, touching and groping me through my jeans, eliciting a small moan.

"So damn much.." he groaned, slowly undoing the button and zipper of the tight jeans, kneeling down to slowly pull them from my legs. He left a trail of kisses down my leg, as he removed the pesky fabric and underwear holding us back. My breath hitched, caught in my throat with every soft feeling of his lips against my bare skin, and he kissed back up my bared legs, allowing me to strip off his jeans and boxers.

"Don't tell me. Show me, Barton." I demanded, seductively, against his lips, running my hands under his shirt to stroke up and down his washboard abs physique. He groaned, the feeling of my nails enough to turn him on like crazy, while I pushed the shirt up and off his body, over his head, throwing it to the side. He crawled over me, as I backed up onto the bed, letting him hover over me and run his hands up to my bra-clad breasts under my top. He slowly pushed the jacket and top up in one swift motion over my head, leaving my bra being the only thing holding us back from the skin on skin contact we'd been desperate for since we walked in the door. He kept his hands working my breasts, lowering his lips to crush against mine, and I bit down on my bottom lip, waiting for him to remove the bra from my body. One of his hands found their way to the clasp and it was thrown across the room instantly. He leaned back down, holding my hips against the bed, his mouth going directly down my chest to my breasts, kissing, licking and nipping playfully. I raked my nails up and down his back, receiving his groans, as I rewarded him with my cries and moans for his skillful hands. "Clint, baby, need you...right now."

He looked into my eyes, laying me on my side, grasping my thighs to wrap them up around his torso, before laying on his side and entering me slowly. I pulled him in closer with my thighs, my arms going to wrap around his neck and look him in the eyes, as he moved himself in and out of me, hands splayed out along my back. I pulled myself closer, pushing my breasts against his chest. 

"Fuck..Clint, oh god...yes.." I cried out, practically singing his name every time he moved in and out of me, slowly, gently, sweetly. The moment, it was so intimate, so intimate, it scared me. We were one, but in some way we had never been before. I craved it, longed for it...for him.

"You...shit, Tasha, you're beautiful..." he groaned, kissing me full on my lips, and I ground myself against him, exceeding the pleasure he brought as well as his own. It was so close, so scary this way, but dammit, it felt so perfect and fucking amazing. We filled the room with our pleasure, cries and singing harmonies of each other's names, unable to get enough of what we'd been restricted from for months. I was teetering on the edge, getting closer and closer, as he quickened his movements within me.

"Cli..Clint I'm close..jus..oh fuck! K..keep go-" I was cut off by my own moan, and he silenced me, drinking in my taste and pleasure, with his own mouth.

"Come on, Nat..oh god, come.." he chanted against my lips, speeding up his thrusts, hitting me just right with every single move. I was done, over the edge, falling into complete ecstasy with him shortly behind. I rolled my hips one last time against our sweat-glistened bodies, before relaxing against his body, his warm embrace surrounding me. He pulled me closer to his chest, and I stared into his beautiful, stormy blue eyes that made my heart met every time I looked his way. 

"Never...again..will you be allowed..to go...solo." He whispered, trying to take control of his heavy pants and breaths.

"Fuck...solo missions." I replied, my voice raspy and low and husky. I quickly pressed my lips to his, bringing my hands up to rest in his hair, as he buried his face into the crook of where my neck and shoulder met, kissing the arrow softly. I caressed his head in my hands against my neck, pressing a gentle kiss to his ear.

"Nat.."

"Clint."

"Thanks for wearing it." He replied simply, and I smiled lightly, kissing his forehead. 

"Yeah, yeah." I sarcastically retorted, and I felt his lips curve into a little smile.

"Love you." He whispered sweetly, kissing the pulse point of her neck of chastely. She just kept on her smile, letting his words play as a melody. Even if she thought love was for children, something they had could definitely be considered love.

"Love you too, Clint."


End file.
